Valmont Series - Inheritance Code

Chapter 1.3 - The Last Goodbye

She wore a structured Burberry mini trench dress in soft fawn, belted at the waist to accentuate her silhouette. The short sleeves and crisp lapels gave it a polished, preppy edge, while the hemline—just daring enough—reminded everyone she dressed to stand out, not to blend in. Her hair was swept into a sleek high ponytail, secured with a black ribbon, letting soft waves cascade down her back. Her choice of footwear—black Burberry ankle boots with signature check panels—clicked confidently against the marble with every step, striking that perfect balance between fashion-forward and academy-appropriate.

A classic Fendi Baguette bag hung from her shoulder in taupe leather with gold hardware, understated but unmistakable. It was the final note in her carefully composed look—effortlessly curated, defiant in its elegance, and unmistakably Aria.

The scent of her L'occitane sweet almond-infused oil lingered faintly as she passed, and for a brief second, the soft rustle of her trench dress was the only sound in the room.

Even in exile, she intended to arrive like royalty.

Aiden, seated at the dining table, looked up from his laptop, eyebrows arching as he took in his sister's ensemble. "You do realize we're not attending a fashion gala, right?" he quipped, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Aria's glare sliced through the air, her eyes narrowing before she turned on her heel, the sharp click of her designer heels punctuating her silence.

Aiden smirked, returning his gaze to his laptop. "Some things never change," he muttered under his breath, the corners of his mouth twitching with amusement.

He returned his attention to his laptop, fingers flying over the keyboard. The glow of multiple screens reflected in his glasses as he initiated a series of downloads from various cloud services. His focus was unwavering, eyes scanning lines of code and data, ensuring that his research and personal projects were securely stored offline.

He connected his external hard drives, initiating backups of his most critical files. Encrypted folders, experimental data, and AI models—all meticulously organized—began transferring. He knew the importance of having his work accessible, especially if Avalon lacked reliable internet connectivity.

As the data transfer progressed, Aiden pulled out his tablet, jotting down notes and to-do lists for the upcoming transition. His mind raced with possibilities and contingencies, always planning several steps ahead.

William addressed them both, "The helicopter will be ready shortly. Finalize anything you need now."

Aiden nodded, unplugging his devices and packing them into his backpack with practiced efficiency. He ensured that his laptop, tablet, and essential drives were securely stored, ready for the journey ahead.

Aria stood silently, her gaze fixed on the city skyline beyond the mansion windows. The familiar lights now seemed distant, almost foreign. She adjusted the strap of her Fendi Baguette bag, grounding herself in the tangible as everything else shifted.

As the family prepared to depart, a brief moment of silence settled over them. Unspoken emotions lingered in the air, each member processing the impending change in their own way.

The blades of the helicopter stirred the crisp morning air as it hovered over the private helipad, a quiet storm waiting. It was sleek, matte-black, marked only with a faint silver L—no logos, no traceable registration. Discreet. Powerful. The kind of vehicle you didn't book—you were summoned into.

Aria stood still for a moment, eyes locked on the aircraft like it had personally insulted her.

She turned back to the mansion's double doors one last time, hoping, absurdly, that her mother would say "Just kidding. Get back in bed. Birthday spa day still on." But instead, Vivienne appeared with a black Burberry coat draped carefully over her arm.

"You'll get uniforms," Vivienne said softly, sensing the dread simmering under Aria's perfect posture. "And you'll have options. It's not as bad as you think."

Aria's voice came low, clipped. "It better not be a prison jumpsuit."

Vivienne didn't laugh. She stepped forward and wrapped the coat around Aria's shoulders. "You've always stood out, Aria. That doesn't change. Not even there."

William was already at the edge of the helipad, speaking to the pilot. His words were efficient, his movements rehearsed, but his eyes tracked his daughter carefully. He hadn't missed a beat.

Aiden emerged next, his Louis Vuitton backpack slung across one shoulder—tech secured, data intact. "All right," he said simply. "Let's do this."

The wind picked up as the rotors engaged. Aria hesitated. Her phone was still in her hand.

One last thing.

She typed fast—fingers shaking a little despite herself:

"Can't Explain. Gone for a while. Tell Finn not to spiral.

I didn't ghost you. I just vanished fabulously."

She hit send. The message was directed to Savannah her closest confidante back in Sydney—a best friend who would notice her sudden disappearance and worry. It was Aria's brief, final connection to her previous life before stepping into the unknown.

Then she opened her Instagram. She snapped a quick mirror selfie in the reflection of the elevator glass before the rooftop, her Fendi bag in frame, expression fierce. The caption was simple:

"Leaving for something ultra-exclusive.

No signal, no spoilers.

If you don't hear from me... just assume

I'm doing something legendary."

#NotARehab #EliteEscape #Arialogy

She posted it. One last timestamp. One last trace. Hoping her friends would see it before it went dark.

Next: The Descent - Avalon isn't just a place. It's a reckoning